Meanie Cream Cake
by Queen of the Ramen
Summary: Leon goes to pick up an extra special cake for Count D.


Leon didn't know why he was always bringing D the various cakes and desserts he seemed to require in order to live. There was just something about the mysterious man that made his suggestions seem like they had been Leon's idea. Leon had gone through plenty of trouble to collect a wide assortment of delicacies for the Count, going to various exclusive bakeries and back-alley pâtisseries, but this establishment had to be one of the oddest he had ever been to.

Walking through the door he was greeted by a squat woman with tiny fluttering wings on her back and a rather large spotted mushroom on her head. He hoped it was a hat. "You here to pick up an order?" Her voice was like nails being dragged across a chalkboard.

Leon winced. "Yeah, I'm here to pick up a-," he paused and fished a slip of paper from the pocket of his jeans. "A Meanie Cream Cake." Usually the cakes he picked up for D had frou-frou names like _l'opera_, _mont blanc _or _frangipane_.

"IS THAT MEANIE CREAM CAKE READY YET?!" the strange woman screeched. Leon's hands immediately flew up to cover his ears. It felt like his head was going to explode.

"Hold on woman, it'll be done in a second," a voice replied from an adjacent room, followed by a not quite quiet enough mumbling of "Keep your pants on."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Leon couldn't believe it, but her voice was even shriller that time.

"Nothing, honey!"

"That's what I thought." She turned back to Leon and smiled what he assumed was supposed to be a sweet smile. "It'll be just a minute."

He sat down in a nearby chair and crossed his legs, starting what he hoped would be a short and uneventful wait. It was soon interrupted by the strangest looking child he had ever seen, small and purple, with features that seemed to be a combination of cat, bear and rabbit, all topped off with a giant purple hat. He (Leon assumed it was a he, it looked vaguely masculine) stood at the foot of the chair and stared up at Leon, as if he were the odd looking one.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii...." His mouth gaped open.

"Erm, hi." Leon looked down into the kid's wide eyed stare.

"My naaaaame's Chowder, what's yoooooour name?"

"Leon." An uncomfortable silence stretched out as Chowder continued to stare at him. Why wasn't the kid blinking? He was creeped out.

"You call that mess writing, uggo?!" Leon could hear yelling from the next room, what he guessed must be the kitchen. It was followed by several loud thumping noises and a few more insults before a strange looking green man with a large mustache and an even larger nose emerged with a white cake box tied with string.

"Your Meanie Cream Cake, sir." He handed it over with a flourish.

"Thank you," Leon said, handing over the strange currency D had provided him, something called Dollops. This place was too weird. He was glad to be going home. Wait, not home, Count D's place. He shook his head and vowed to himself to never reveal to the strange man his mental slip.

"Ah!" Count D cried out, delighted. Although Leon would never admit it even to himself, making D happy made him happy. "This will go perfectly with the Huángshān Gòngjú tea I've prepared." He walked over to a table where a delicate porcelain teapot sat, steam drifting from the spout. "Mung Daal makes the most exquisite desserts."

Picking up the teapot he carefully poured it into two teacups ready nearby. He motioned to Leon's customary chair and Leon slumped down into it. "Would you care for some cake?"

Although Leon was wary of any food that came from such a bizarre catering shop, he was awful hungry, and he trusted D's taste in desserts, if not in anything else. "Sure."

D produced a small knife from who knows where and slit the string on the box, before lifting the lid. A white cake rimmed with red frosting, topped with two blobs of green frosting for eyes and a red line for a mouth stared up at him. "Oh great, it's a weirdo in a dress," the cake said.

Leon was confounded. "Did... did that cake just talk?"

D sliced the cake and lifted out a slice with a silver cake server, depositing it on a porcelain plate, and handed it to Leon. "Yes, it did," he said, smiling. He cut a piece for himself and placed it on a matching plate.

Leon could on stare at the cake he was holding. "Talking cake..." he mumbled. He looked up at D, how was happily eating his cake, a look of bliss on his face. "Oh well," he thought. "When in Rome." He dug in. Vanilla with raspberry filling. It was delicious.


End file.
